Saturday night.

"Riya's point of view,"
It's 7:00 p.m., and I've just arrived home from work.
I walked down the hall and switched on the hall light.
The thrill of completing my assignment on time lit up my face.
After opening the bedroom door and laying my laptop bag and handbag on the side table, I went to the bathroom.
Today I put on Harsh's T-shirt and shorts, tucked my ponytail into a cozy bun, and went into the kitchen.
I began my cooking preparations by removing the cabbage from the refrigerator.
Harsh adores my home-cooked meals, so when he complimented my cuisine, I was ecstatic.
He favors my home-cooked meals the most.
Harsh never demands that I cook because he understands that I have a job and that I am frequently exhausted after it.
I consider myself really blessed to have such a wonderful lover.
Without him, I was feeling rather lonely. He is always present in the kitchen with me, assisting me with kitchen activities.
Talking to him makes my entire day of exhaustion vanish. Because it's tough to find time for each other in our busy schedules, we prefer to spend our time together in the kitchen.
I was feeling lonely, so I put on my phone and played some fun Bollywood party music.
Today I was in a good mood since I kept my word.
By lunchtime, Rachit's behavior enraged me, but after that, I was back to normal.
I was preparing dinner while swaying to the beat of the music on my phone.
It was 8 p.m... I placed all the food on the dining table and then walked to my bedroom and sat down on the bed after cleaning the kitchen.
It was so late that I contacted Harsh.
"Hello, how are you doing?" With anxiety in my voice, I inquired.
Harsh reassured me by saying, "I'm only going to leave my office in 20 minutes."
"OK," I told him, "I'm waiting for you and missing you."
I, too, am missing you. Let's get this work done now so I can get home soon. Before hanging up the phone, he added to the conversation.
When the message "Are you busy, Riya?" emerged, I was resting in bed reviewing my WhatsApp messages.
A smile spread across my face.
In response to Rachit's message, I responded, "No, I am not busy.
"Wait!"
I can't tell Rachit how much I want to talk to him; I have no choice but to ignore him.
After some time, I sent a formal message.
I tried to restrain myself from composing a new message and pressing the submit button, but I couldn't help myself.
"No, I'm not occupied."
Have you eaten? Rachit inquired in his second message.
I tried to continue the dialogue by writing, "No, not now, and you."
Rachit replied quickly to the message, "No, the food is ready now; I'll eat it in a minute."
I responded, "All right," attempting to defuse the situation.
"Do you cook your own food?" Rachit's message resurfaced.
"Yes, and you," I typed suspiciously in the message.
Rachit piqued my interest, but because of my growing attraction to him, I sought to keep a safe distance from him.
I know well that I like Rachit and that he's more than a friend to me, but I've always tried to keep my emotions in check because of my relationship with Harsh.
Since it would be fine, I'll never tell Rachit what's on my mind.
Rachit's feelings for me are unclear; I'm not sure if he's flirting with me or actually likes me.
He'll never know what's on my mind, whatever it is, "I whispered to myself.
Then there was another message. "I can cook, and people say I'm a superb cook,"
"Wow, that's incredible." I lauded Rachit's ability.
My expectation was that my beloved would be a fantastic cook who would wow me with his home-cooked dinners, but Harsh only knows how to make tea and Maggi. I tried all I could to get Harsh to learn to cook, but he was never interested.
I took a deep breath and walked out of my thoughts.
Another message showed up on the phone's screen: "I believe you are busy."
Yes, I'm occupied. On Monday, I'll see you at the workplace.
After sending the last message, I turned off the mobile data.
9 p.m. A knock came at the hall door.
"Is this you, harsh?" Before unlocking the door, I queried it cautiously.
As he took off his shoes, Harsh responded, "Yes."
As soon as I opened the door, he approached me. "I've been missing you a lot."
"Me, too," I said as I cradled him in my arms.
Riya, what is this? You wore my T-shirt again today," he made a remark about my clothing.
How many times do I have to say that this is a present from my boyfriend? I asked him jokingly.
He said, with sly irritability on his face, "That's not right."
Okay, I'll change clothes, but first, you should shower.
"The food is going cold," I muttered as I pushed him into the bathroom.
Have you made dinner yet? The clarity of his voice took aback him.
"Have you had your dinner yet?" It saddened my voice as I enquired.
He looked at my mournful countenance and responded, "No"
So, what was the source of your surprise when you saw me? I interrogated him.
"No, there isn't anything like that; I figured you were weary from work and didn't want to bother you," he explained.
"That's not the case. I'd like to prepare a meal for you," I responded, hoping to soothe his fears.
I was serving food at the dining table when he exited the washroom and walked down the hall.
"Can you tell me what you've made?" He inquired, perplexed.
"Cabbage, potatoes, and parathas," I stated as I brought the food dish closer to him.
"How did you know I had a craving for cabbage and potatoes?" he was astonished.
"In the same way that you know everything there is to know about me without telling me," I joked.
yummy...
"Food prepared by your hands," he whispered, his mouth-watering from the taste of the food.
My face showed a different amount of contentment.
I thought to myself, "Thank God he liked the dinner."
As I sat nearby, he kissed my hand and said, "Thank you."
A pink glow appeared on my face.
We returned to our bedroom after dinner, and he reminded me, "We have to go shopping tomorrow," to which I enthusiastically replied.
Foremost, I turned off my phone's alarm and slept soundly with my head on his chest.